down in albion they’re black and blue but we don’t talk about that are you from ’round here? how do you do? i’d like to talk about that talk over gin in teacups and leaves on the lawn violence in bus stops and the pale thin girl with eyes forlorn

gin in teacups and leaves on the lawn violence in dole queues and the pale thin girl behind the checkout

if you’re looking for a cheap sort set in false antic*p*tion ill be waiting in the photo booth at the underground station now come away, won’t you come away we can go to deptford, digbeth, tuebrook anywhere in albion

yellowing cl*ssics and canons at dawn coffee wallows and pith helmets and an english sun

reebok cl*ssics and canons at dawn terrible warlords, good warlords and an english song

but if you’re looking for a cheap sort glint with perspiration there’s a four-mile queue outside the disused power station